Alternative UCOS
by smilelikey0umeanit
Summary: An AU fanfiction where UCOS are a band...don't ask. It's rather strange but stick with it!


_**A/N: I wrote this a couple of months ago and would like to share it with you all. It's the first AU fanfiction I've ever written so I would love to hear your feedback. I hope all you mums out there are having a special day and I hope this can make it even more special x**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own New Tricks.**_

Alternative UCOS

"_Guys, Sandra, listen. I've decided to retire. I'm too old for this game."_

The announcement that had ended it all. Eight years of UCOS, from their very first band practice to their seventh album. The second one had been tricky to write. Still, they wouldn't be a proper band without some hiccups once in a while, and look at the success they'd had. That had all gone down the pan now though. Bloody Jack. Why did he have to go and retire? Surely being in a band was better than playing golf twenty four hours a day for the rest of your life. Although, with all the money Jack had, he could probably build a new golf course in every country in the world. Anyway, bugger Jack, they had more pressing problems to attend to. Like who the hell could possibly replace him? Sandra had suggested holding auditions, but he wasn't that keen. Nobody could ever play that bass like Jack could, no-one.

But then again, they couldn't go on as a trio. Trios just didn't work. You either had to be a duo or a quartet. Or a quintet. Anything but a trio. Brian had agreed with him, but more because he didn't like new people, he just liked sitting in the corner tuning his guitar or memorising tabs. He must have learnt hundreds by now. They'd had arguments about it in the past, but really they didn't mind, him and Sandra, as long as he pulled it out of the bag on the night. As long as nobody touched his precious, tuned-to-perfection guitar, they were fine.

"Gerry?" Sandra's voice from the doors of the UCOS basement snapped him back into reality from whichever dream-world he had been immersed in.

"Sorry, I was miles away then," he apologised as she threw her leather jacket over the amp in the corner and sat down heavily on the sofa. "Where's Brian?"

"He'll be here in a minute, he's bringing his bike downstairs so nobody nicks it." She sighed.

"I don't know why he still rides that bloody thing, he can afford a car. Ain't as if anyone's going to bother nicking it anyway, it's knackered." He shook his head at the absurdity of Brian's ways.

"Hmm," Sandra murmured, clearly distracted. She took a deep breath, moving her eyes from where they were focused on the lyrics board to meet Gerry's pale blue gaze. "Listen, I've got some news."

Bloody hell. This sounded ominous. It sounded like how Jack had phrased his little speech. "Go on, do your worst," he sighed, sitting back in his chair.

"I've found a new member for the band." She returned her eyes to the board as she anticipated his outburst.

"Who is it? Have you auditioned them? Why wasn't I consulted about this?"

"It's…Strickland." She paused to bite her lip before thinking better of it and deciding to justify her decision in the hope of pacifying her fellow band member. "Look, he's the only other person we know who can play bass, at least he isn't a complete stranger who Brian would have to get used to. I heard him play and he's good, honestly, I asked Brian and he agreed that he would be a sufficient replacement for Jack…" she babbled, not wanting to stop. That would mean facing the wrath of Gerry, who had turned a shade of puce which was an uncanny resemblance to the colour of his tie.

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the pair as Gerry struggled to form coherent words from the maelstrom of thoughts circling his mind.

"What the f…why didn't you…I mean, come _on_…him?"

She nodded, not quite knowing how to respond to his disjointed ramblings. By some kind of miracle, the shrill bell of Brian's bike sounded as the door to the basement was pushed open by the man himself, knocking the metal bell against the wood panel and generally making a racket. '_Saved by the bell there, Pullman'_ she thought, as Gerry rolled his eyes at Brian's antics.

"Have you two had an argument or something? Your face is the colour of your tie mate," Brian observed, thankfully turning away so the pen that Gerry threw at him with a considerable amount of venom only hit his back before falling to the floor. "Alright mate, no need to get stressed, I was just saying," the Northerner protested, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

"I was just telling Gerry about the new addition to the band," Sandra finally rediscovered her voice, but still didn't dare to take her eyes away from the man opposite her. "Gerry, what do you think? Be honest, please. It matters to me that we're all in this together."

"I think…" he paused as he selected his words carefully. He was in a mood, but upsetting Sandra would make the situation ten times worse. "Why didn't you ask me?"

She looked him in the eye directly, so he could see that she was telling the truth. After all these years, he could read her as easily as he read _The Tiger Who Came To Tea_ to Gerry Junior. "Truthfully, because he's our only hope, and I didn't want you to put him off before he'd had a chance to prove himself. He's good, Gerry, he can really play. Just give him one practice with us, and if it doesn't work, we'll find someone else, no matter how long it takes. I promise."

As she'd predicted, he nodded slightly to indicate that he understood. "I can't pretend that I'm happy about this Sandra, but if it's for the good of the band then I can't say no. One wrong note though and he's out, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled nervously. "Brian, are you still alright with this?"

"Fine by me," the older man confirmed from the kitchen area where he was making the standard morning coffee. "As long as he doesn't touch my guitar."

* * *

It was nearing six, and she'd busied herself setting the basement up for a practice and generally tidying. The cleaning rules had slipped since Jack had left, except in Brian's corner of the room. Truth be told, she'd needed something to do to take her mind off the nerves. She hadn't been lying when she'd told Gerry that Rob was their only hope. She couldn't bring herself to audition someone completely new, and it wasn't fair on Brian. Plus there was the hassle of advertising.

The sound of the door creaking alerted her to Brian's presence, breaking her out of her reverie. She took one last look around the room to make sure everything was in place before sitting on the sofa.

"Isn't he here yet?" Brian asked, getting his guitar out of its case and sitting down to tune it up.

"I told him six, it's only ten to. Have you seen Gerry?"

"Yeah, he'll be along in a minute, he's just nipped out for a fag." Brian muttered as he adjusted the tuning pegs.

"He really needs to stop bloody smoking, he'll ruin his voice. If he hasn't already, that is. It's been a while since we last did a full practice," she mused.

"He says it adds 'a smoky depth' to his voice, apparently," Brian chuckled, met with a snigger from Sandra.

"Who knew that Marlborough Reds were the secret to a good singing voice?" she cracked, getting up from the sofa to wipe a speck of dust from the crash cymbal of her drum kit and to locate those all-important drum sticks which she had misplaced in her earlier tidying spree. She had just found them under a piece of sheet music when there was a soft knock at the door. The tall figure of their boss entered carrying his bass guitar. "Brian, Sandra," he said somewhat sheepishly, setting down the instrument on the table.

"Hi," she greeted him warmly. "How are you doing?"  
"I'm alright thank you, although I must admit I am a bit nervous. How did Gerry take it?"

"He was surprisingly alright about it, you've got nothing to worry about. That really is a nice bass you've got there," she smiled reassuringly, ignoring the suspicious look from Brian. She knew that telling Rob he was on a 'one strike and out' system would put him under pressure. She wanted to give him a fair chance.

"It is, I've had it for about five years now, but it's the latest in a long line. I've been playing since I was fourteen." He explained, tuning the bass much like Brian was tuning his instrument.

"Me too, I started after my dad died. I guess drumming was a good way to release my anger. It still is." She chuckled.

"I know what you mean, I did a taster lesson once and I really enjoyed it, unfortunately I just didn't have the co-ordination to be very good at it, so I switched to bass." He smiled, meeting Sandra's eyes.

"Right, I think I'm about ready." Brian announced.

"So am I, we're just waiting on Gerry now," she said, a hint of concern creeping into her voice.

"Ey up, speak of the devil," the older man muttered as Gerry entered, ever the one to arrive fashionably late.

"Sorry, just got talking to Mick, you know what he's like." He made his apologies. "Alright guv'nor?" he addressed Rob, taking a drink of water to hydrate his vocal chords.

"Fine thanks, ready to go," he smiled, not being able to ignore the contempt in the Londoner's eyes.

"Right then, I think we're all set. Shall we start with _Under The Bridge_ by the _Red Hot Chili Peppers_ like I told you Rob? It's a steady rhythm for bass almost all the way through. Then we'll step it up to something heavier?" Sandra began, always the natural leader.

"Sounds good to me," Gerry remarked, eager to put Rob in the spotlight.

"Right then, let's go." She moved to take up her position on the stool behind her prized drum kit, as Brian and Rob made the final adjustments to their guitars. Gerry took his usual position in the centre, in front of the lyrics board.

A silence filled the room as Sandra counted down to Rob's cue and the first note of the song sounded from Rob's guitar. He kept the basic rhythm up well, allowing Brian to add his acoustic to the mix, and Gerry a beat to start singing to around 30 seconds in. She'd deliberately chosen a song where she only needed to play the drums fairly softly so she could hear the other three play together. So far they sounded…great. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that Jack was playing the bass instead of Rob. He had that same well-honed talent, refined over a number of years. Now all they needed was a choir of extraordinarily high-pitched singers to complete the song.

She smiled as Rob completed the delicate final note perfectly, looking to Gerry for confirmation of what she was about to do. He gave a non-committal shrug. He wasn't overly thrilled, but he'd come around. Eventually. She then turned to the other former member of the band, Brian, who nodded with a slight smile. Rob was taking his time with placing his bass on the table in the corner so he wouldn't have to watch nervously as they deliberated.

"Rob?"

He slowly turned around, suddenly having lost the ability to use his voice.

"You're in. Welcome to the band."

He paused for a moment, studying Sandra's expression to make sure that she wasn't joking.

"Thank you, I don't know what to say, I-" he was cut off mid-sentence by a slap on the back by Brian. "Well done mate, that was great, honestly. Just like Jack."

"Yeah, well done guv'nor. Credit where credit's due, I suppose." Gerry acknowledged, raising his water bottle in a toast to the new recruit.

Sandra smiled, watching her band from the sofa. Like everyone, he'd had his doubts about Rob, but had he heard him play, Jack would be happy with his replacement. Even Brian was unusually happy with a new person joining the group. Gerry, on the other hand…well, he'd just have to get used to it for the good of the band. Or else they'd be finding him a replacement.


End file.
